


Now my heart is like an open door

by seratonation



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce is hiding, Bruce needs to be needed, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint needs Bruce, M/M, Protective Clint, Self-Indulgent, and I needed to write this ship again, cuddle fic, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1341697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seratonation/pseuds/seratonation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Bruce was in his lab, hard at work when he felt something shift. Not physically, but a shift in his attention, like someone was watching him. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now my heart is like an open door

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like I didn't have enough of this ship in my life, so I decided to fix it.
> 
> Title from Tourist Trap by Bright Eyes.

Bruce was in his lab, hard at work when he felt something shift. Not physically, but a shift in his attention, like someone was watching him. 

He put his test tubes down, and stepped back from his desk. He knew where all the vents were, and the door hadn’t opened. Then he looked straight up to see Clint watching him from a displaced ceiling panel. 

“Security assessment,” Clint said. 

“With snacks?” Bruce asked, unable to keep the smile from pulling at his lips. 

“You know it,” Clint said, pulling out a foil wrapped sandwich to show Bruce.

“I hope you brought enough to share with the class.”

Clint pulled out another one and grinned. “Can’t let my favourite experiment starve.”

“Yeah, you try feeding him next time you see him.”

Clint laughed and took the sandwiches out of sight again, before dropping a line to the ground. Bruce watched him zip down the line and land on his feet. 

“Why are you running assessments in the middle of the night?” Bruce asked him, taking the offered snack.

“Best time to run assessments,” Clint said, already unwrapping his own, “everyone's asleep.”

“Exactly,” Bruce said, “you should be too.”

“Says the person still working,” Clint said, mouth full, he paused as he swallowed then, “when was the last time you saw daylight?” 

Bruce turned to his own sandwich, unwrapping it slowly to buy himself time. “I’ve been busy.”

When this was met with silence, Bruce finally looked up to see Clint staring at him. 

“Okay so I’ve been hiding,” he said, “there’s so much people up there.”

“First of all,” Clint said, scrunching up the empty wrapping, “the tower is massive, it doesn't even feel like all that many people.”

“Put Tony and Thor in the same room for too long and that’s too many people,” Bruce said, taking a bite out of his own sandwich.

“Fair enough,” he replied, “and second of all, you shouldn’t be avoiding _me_. As your caretaker, feeder and bed warmer, you should at least make an effort to be in that bed sometimes.”

Bruce took of his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, suddenly tired. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right down.”

“Then I’ll wait,” Clint said, “finish your sandwich, make sure there’s nothing that will grow a monster overnight, and then we’ll go.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m not leaving without you,” Clint said, sitting down and crossing his arms.

Bruce finished his sandwich quickly now that things had been decided. He put all of the temperature sensitive work in the fridge, and all the oxygen sensitive ones in airtight containers and got up. Clint, who had been watching him closely, followed suit and they walked out together. 

The tower was empty, true to Clint’s word, and when they finally made it to Clint’s room, and into Clint’s bed, Bruce had to laugh. 

“What is it?” Clint asked. 

“I don’t think you can claim the title of bed warmer if you’re using an electric blanket.”

“Any means necessary.” Clint said on a yawn, “being the responsible one is exhausting.”

“I know,” Bruce said, “I’m sorry.” He placed a gentle kiss to Clint’s shoulder. 

“Good,” Clint said, “don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” It really was comfortable to be in a warm bed again. He felt Clint shift closer, wrapping an arm around him to tangle his fingers in Bruce’s hair, and placed the other hand on his shoulder. You didn’t have to be a genius to figure out what it meant. 

“Hey.” 

“Hmm?” Clint replied, already half asleep.

“Thank you.”

Clint didn’t reply, but his fingers squeezed, just a little, and Bruce knew he understood.


End file.
